"Hello, Marzia," I speak up as she spins on her heels to face me. Her face is crestfallen, terrified and excited at the same time. "Did you miss me?"
"Adrian?" She takes a step toward me, trying to rush into my embrace, but changes her mind at the last second. "It can't be you, Adrian..."
I slowly take my mask off, and when we are face to face, she gasps with the realization that she was right. Something flashes in her eyes, akin to the desire I know she's trying desperately to hide from me. It's been eleven long years since I last saw Marzia, longer than a decade. Enough time for her fucking parents to brainwash her into thinking her role is that of an obedient mafia servant girl, nothing else, nothing more.
"You don't call me by my name," I tell her firmly. "That's a privilege you will have to earn."
"What?" Her eyes flash, not understanding. "Adrian, please, I-"
"What did I just tell you, Marzia?" I hiss through gritted teeth. "You call me Signore."
"I can't believe it's y-you," she stutters, disregarding my words and making me want to punish her for her clear disobedience. "I've spent so long wishing... wanting... hoping..."
"For what?" I demand, smirking at her. "For your prince charming to save you from this cruel fate?"
From her expression, I can tell that is exactly what she'd been hoping for this whole time. I laugh at her, chuckling as her pretty face falls with disappointment.
"I have to say, Marzia," I go on darkly. "I'm disappointed. I thought you'd be a good, patient girl for me. I thought you'd fight harder for me. For us."
"You never reached out to me," she whispers, still devouring my face with her gaze as if I'm a mirage that's come to her in a dream. "I thought you didn't want me. That you forgot about me."
"I don't forget, bambina," I mutter, enjoying the flash of pink in her cheeks. "I owe you a favor, don't I?"
She nods wordlessly, avoiding my gaze, so I take her chin in my hands and force her to look at me. When we touch, sparks fly, and I can't get enough of the euphoric sensation. I don't want to let go of her. Luckily for both of us, after tonight, I don't have to.
"You shouldn't have done what your parents told you," I say. "You should've fought them more. Begged to be with me."
She nods, mesmerized by me. I smirk at her, knowing I've got her wrapped around my finger now and fucking loving it.
"Have you been kissed yet?" I ask, my free hand forming a fist as I wait for her answer.
"I..." She flushes again, lashes fluttering open and closed, unwilling to disclose the answer. It only serves to make me angrier.
"Well? Don't tell me you kissed that Donati bastard. If you did, I'm going to cut his fucking tongue out."
"I didn't," she shakes her head, finally. "I didn't let him kiss me."
"And before?" I rasp. "Was there anyone before me who touched those lips?"
She shakes her head and my head soars. I can tell she isn't lying. Little mafia princesses like her can never hide their true emotions. I can read her like an open book.
"Good," I grunt. "I'll be your first proper kiss then."
"You can't-"
I don't let her finish, instead pressing my lips to hers with possessive force that makes it clear whom she belongs to. I devour her little mouth, kissing her deeply and marking my territory forever. The smallest of gasps escapes Marzia's lips and she steps closer, eager for more of my punishing touch. I take what's mine, deepening our kiss and showing her she belongs to one man, and one man only.
Her lips taste sweet, like sugar, and I can't get enough. I could spend a lifetime tasting her, getting to know the shape of her lips, claiming her as mine once and for all. But I can sense the fear in her. Her body is shaking like a leaf - she's terrified. I can't push her too much. I don't want her to break just yet... that will come soon enough. When she's good and ready for it.
I pull back, smirking at her crestfallen face. "Now I stole your first kiss. I'm going to have all your firsts, Marzia De Luca."
"But..." She bites her lower lip, moaning softly as she tastes me on her mouth. "What about Vitto? I'm supposed to marry him..."
"You'll marry him over my dead fucking body," I bark instantly, feeling rage flowing through my veins freely. "You're mine, Marzia, and you always have been. I'm not letting that Donati bastard anywhere near you."
"But our engagement..." she whispers.
"Your engagement?" I smirk, touching my fingertips to her flushed cheek. "As of right now, that's fucking over. Forever."
6
Marzia
It still feels like a dream. My mind and body refuse to understand he's really here - the boy from my childhood, the man from my daydreams. But it is him. It's undoubtedly Adrian Bernardi, and I'm at his mercy now.